


Bongy-Knocker Origins (Or, Meeting the Family 'Ur)

by in_a_blog_in_the_ground



Series: Well met, Nori [2]
Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Bongy-Knocker, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-28
Updated: 2013-06-07
Packaged: 2017-12-06 19:17:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/739182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/in_a_blog_in_the_ground/pseuds/in_a_blog_in_the_ground
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How did Nori get that…whateveritis anyway?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How did Nori get that…whateveritis anyway?

“Nori!”

The dwarf in question let out an “oof” as his younger brother slammed into his midsection, a little too enthusiastic in his welcoming hug.

“Hullo, lad,” he said, ruffling Ori’s hair affectionately. “Oh no, did ye let Dori trim yer mop again?”

“Only yesterday!” Ori chirped. “Why, does it look uneven?” He put his hands to his forelock, suddenly concerned.

“Er. Well. No. Heh, it looks fine! Fine…” Nori tried to put Ori at ease, though secretly he thought the frankly shockingly straight fringe across the young dwarf’s brow made him look, well, rather too young, and a little foolish.

Dori emerged from the front door, wiping his hands on his apron, as Ori led their middle brother towards the shop. “Well, well, look who’s back.”

“Good te see ye too, brother,” Nori said with a tense smile on his face, trying to detract from the fact that their last meeting had been less than ideal. “Got ya something.” He tossed a pouch in Dori’s direction as he passed.

Surprised, Dori almost fumbled the catch, but when he finally eased open the bag, Nori heard him reverently whisper, “Leaf from the Southfarthing…” Looking back, Nori grinned as Dori noticed and swiftly tucked the bag into an apron pocket. “I’m not going to ask how you came by this. But thank you.”

Chuckling with Ori, Nori entered his brothers’ tea shop.

“Like what ye’ve done with the place, Dori,” Nori said, looking around at the furnishings that weren’t there when he’d been home last. He especially liked the decorative silver ornaments hanging on the wall behind the counter. Bit flash, but Erfin could - no, no, no, he caught himself thinking, brothers are NOT marks. Not even Dori. Even if he is a - no. Shaking his head at himself, he joined his brothers as they moved through the back of the shop to their living quarters.

Removing a wrapped package from his pack before slinging it into a corner, he handed it to Ori and smiled as his brother uncovered long, fine, sleek feathers, perfect for sharpening into quills. “Nori, these are beautiful! Thank you, thank you so much! What sort of bird did they come from?”

“Not sure, really. A large one. Rather disgruntled. Bit stringy,” Nori said, recalling that particularly harrowing morning. The breakfast was worth the pecks, at least.

“And what, may I ask, is that?” Dori regarded the object leaning against the wall in front of Nori’s pack. It looked like a staff, though one end was encased in about a handspan of iron, studded with low spikes, and the other stopped in a thick point.

“Oh, me bongy-knocker!” Nori grinned as Ori giggled at his impromptu term. Truthfully, Nori had no idea what it was really called. “Funny story, that. ‘ere I was, wanderin’ me way through the Iron Hills…”

Well. By “wandering though”, he really meant “being chased on a borrowed pony.” And by “borrowed”, he meant “stolen.” But these are minor details.

Being pursued on pony-back was decidedly not how Nori anticipated his first visit to the Iron Hills to go.

“You bastard! I’m going to…wid yer…an’ then I’m going to…and THEN…” The particulars of the irate dwarf’s threats were lost to Nori as the wind whipped the words away. He was glad he picked a fast pony as he didn’t especially want them to be clarified.

“C’mon now, c’mon,” he urged his steed faster. Cursing to himself, at himself, and in general, he couldn’t think how he had overslept. Well, the baker’s daughter did have quite an inviting…manner. Unfortunately, the baker, his two sons, and three other daughters did not agree with Nori’s taking up of the invitation.

Looking over his shoulder at the small war party on his tail, Nori failed to notice the stream his pony was bravely gearing itself up to jump over. Back at the paddock, all the other ponies made fun of it for being too scared to jump the water trough. Well, she’d show them…

“Augh!” Nori suddenly found himself tumbling through the air, somehow dislodged from his pony’s back. Things did not improve for him as moments later he landed in the middle of a gushing stream, waters swollen from the melting snow of the past winter. This just meant he got soaked faster.

Sputtering and spitting water, Nori hauled himself up, looking for his traitorous mount, and found himself instead staring down the business end of a heavy stone rolling pin.

The baker leaned down from his pony and sneered, “You’re nicked.”

Looking past his captors, Nori finally spied his erstwhile steed and wondered briefly why she appeared to be doing a victory dance of some kind before he was hauled up and away.

The county magistrate was quick to pass sentence.

“It’s to the mines wid ye!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was a thing a while back that said Nori did a stint as a miner at some point, but I found it incredulous that he would have an honest job without being forced to. And wasn’t Bofur a miner? What a wonderful chance for them to meet, thought I. And then this happened.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nori meets Bofur, and finds his bongy-knocker. It’s love at first swing.

“Bofur!” the foreman called, “new blood fer ye.”

Bofur ceased humming the little tune he had been composing and walked toward where his foreman was standing beside a scowling dwarf.

“Been caught dippin’ intae the local bakery, this one ‘as,” the foreman said with a leer. Bofur cast a sidelong look at the new dwarf, who scowled even deeper. “I want you an’ yer team to start workin’ at the fresh vein. Take this ‘un wid ye. Maybe ‘e can put ‘is treasure seekin’ tae good use!” The foreman chortled at his own bad humor and headed off.

Bofur cast a not-particularly fond glance at the foreman’s back, and turned to the stranger with a friendly smile. “Ye don’t want to know what he got landed here for,” he said, trying to put the other dwarf at ease, or at least to get him to stop frowning in such a fearsome manner. “Bofur, at your service.”

“Nori,” said the dwarf, rather rudely. “An’ wot did you do, then?”

Bofur’s smile froze for just a moment as he contemplated how to answer. “Oh, it’s a job, you know. Family to take care of an’ all.” Nothing had ever been quite the same after the orc raid, and since Bifur had a hard time making toys, among other troubles these days, Bofur had to take extra shifts in the mines. “So,” he said, smoothly changing the subject, “ye ever dug before?”

Nori grunted a dissent, following Bofur into a side room where equipment was stored. Though as a dwarf, it was practically in his blood, Nori had never spent any significant amount of time underground before, much less mined. Or had any kind of honest profession, if truth be told. Ever. Nori shuddered at the thought.

Bofur handed Nori the essential rope, helmet, and torch that all miners dare not go into the tunnels without, secretly wondering how the other dwarf was going to fit his…unique hairstyle into the metal cap, though Bofur had purposefully selected the widest one. He watched in growing amazement as Nori contemplated the helmet, swiftly pulled apart his hair, and braided it into a single functional tail running down his back, with two sections from the sides incorporated into his beard. He seemed to have had much practice changing his appearance. Suppressing his astonishment, Bofur went on to point out a selection of tools lined against the wall.

“Well, ye’ve got your pick-axes, mattocks, hammers, smashers…” Bofur’s lilting voice made the words sound more like the verse to a song, rather than a list of heavy implements for effectively making larger rocks into smaller ones.

“Wot’s this?” Nori picks up a thick staff from a corner, one end like the head of a blunt mace, the other a spike.

“Why, that’s a…I have no idea.” Bofur blinked. He’d never even noticed it there before. Of course, he had his own mattock, passed down from his father, and rarely had to come into the room anyway.

Nori gave it a skillful twirl, almost as if it were made for his hands, and hefted it over his shoulder.

“Right,” Bofur said, glad Nori was no longer looking as angry as when he first arrived, especially since he now had the whateveritwas in his hands. Leading the way to the tunnels, he did not notice Nori’s quick eyes making note of every exit and passageway, memorizing the layout of the mine.

Arriving at their destination, deep within the hill, they found the other dwarves of Bofur’s team already hard at work excavating the thick mineral vein that had been uncovered the day before, hoping that it would lead to more crystallization further in. As Bofur explained the basics, Nori learned quickly, nodding at Bofur’s words and watching the other dwarves. By the end of the day, he had even picked up a few passes of Iglishmêk, most of them rude.

Bofur couldn’t help but be impressed by the surprising and strange dwarf, and wondered how many more aspects of him were yet to be revealed.

They made good progress that day, and exhausted, Nori exited the mine with the others, solidifying the route in his mind. His plan was to slip away under the notice of the foremen, who were less vigilant than jail guards, but he did not want to get lost in the labyrinth of tunnels under the hill. Better to bide his time and learn the paths properly.

Nori started as Bofur came up behind him, clapping him on the back. “Well, mate! Good first day, then? Want to come have a pint with me and the lads? Clear that rock dust out o’your throat, it will!”

Surprised at Bofur’s easy camaraderie, Nori had not time to answer before another hand, not so friendly, came to land on his shoulder. “He’ll be comin’ wid us now, won’t ya?” the guard sneered. “An’ yull be handin’ that…stick ye’ve got back now too. G’on.”

Reluctantly, Nori handed the staff to Bofur. “Don’t you worry, mate, I’ll have it for you tomorrow!” Bofur took it, and cast a significant eyebrow towards the guards.

Catching his glance, Nori understood his confusion and called back as he was led away, “Well, there was also the matter of a certain amount of missing gold. And the fight. And the pony…” His voice trailed off as he got further from Bofur, who was standing dumbstruck, with his mattock and the mace over his shoulders. Wondering what sort of dwarf had gotten handed to him this time, Bofur jogged to catch up with his mates.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nori…served out a full sentence?!? Time to celebrate! This event will never ever occur again.
> 
> Dwarf drunkenness ensues. Also a certain amount of introspection. But mostly just drunken stumbling.

The following weeks found Nori still working in the mines. Strangely, he found himself not minding the labor. It felt oddly rewarding to spend the day underground, feeling the rock crunch as he swung the mace-head, or the thrill as more delicate work with the spiked end revealed crystals that gleamed in the candlelight from the torch he wore on his helmet.

He found he enjoyed the company as well. Bofur proved to be kind and quick-witted, always ready with encouragement or a humorous quip. Nori found himself frequently exchanging jokes with the easy-going dwarf, and was soon comfortable enough with the crew to draw out stories of his escapades, some massively exaggerated, causing the shafts to echo with the guffawing and incredulous shouts of his workmates.

He settled into a routine of working through the day, leaving the mace -which he’d begun to think of as his- in the equipment room before being met by the jail guards after his shift, and spending the night in his cell; sleep on the hard cot made easy by his satisfying tiredness. Before he knew it, his sentence was up. Waiting outside the mine with Bofur one night, his guards simply did not come. He almost did not notice, being in the middle of a story involving loaded dice, some Easterlings, and a certain amount of miscommunication.

Laughing as Nori reached the end of his tale, it was Bofur who noted the lack of armed personnel. “Oy, mate, it seems your escort is late tonight.”

Still chuckling, Nori counted back the months and sobered as he realized. “I’m done. I’m free.” Turning to his friend, he had the most open look of disbelief that Bofur had ever seen. “I just served out a full sentence.”

Laughing even harder at the look on his friend’s face than at his story, Bofur grabbed him around the shoulders and started steering him towards the other end of town, “Then ye can finally have that pint with us!”

Nori grinned as he allowed himself to be led. A pint did sound mighty good.

The crew cheered as Bofur pushed Nori through the door. A round was ordered and food brought out. Nori found the pastries and roast meats exceptional, and mentioned so. Bofur informed him with pride that the cook was none other than his own younger brother, a shy, rotund dwarf named Bombur, who mumbled out an “at your service” before hurrying back to the kitchens. Many pints later and full of good food, Bofur and Nori staggered out the door, leaning on each other and Bofur’s mattock, uproariously singing two different songs.

Bofur habitually started heading in the direction of his home, but stumbled when Nori halted at the turnoff to the main road. If he could recall, he had stashed his pack…somewhere…over there. He hoped the cave…or was it the hollow tree? was still where he had left it. The PACK. He hoped the PACK was still where he had left it. Yesh. “I s’pose this is it then, then,” Nori slurred, trying to stand straight and throw his friend a messy salute.

“Wait a minute, wait a minute. Where will you go? ‘s dark. Ye can’t see. Can’t walk. Not widdout me!” Bofur hiccupped. This was fair, they had made it this far only by counterbalancing each other’s stumbling steps.

“’s true,” Nori giggled. “I guess I’ll just stay ‘ere then.” The drunken dwarf sat down heavily in the middle of the path.

Bofur laughed at his friend grinning up at him from the dirt, and almost fell over himself. “No, no, no, you can’t stay here, they’ll think you’re sloshed. Oh.” They guffawed again. “You should come with me!” he pronounced, coming to a sudden decision.

“No mate, I couldn’t. Ye’ve got yer family, and I…” Nori sobered as he thought of his brothers. He wondered if they cared how he was, or if they missed him, because suddenly he-

“Well, I ‘ave got me cousin staying with me. Did I ever tell you about, about Bifur? Me poor Bifur…” Having always been an empathetic sort, Bofur was quickly caught into his friend’s mood change. Pulling Nori up, Bofur led them towards his home, telling him his cousin’s sad tale…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The 'Ur family's sad tale is basically that of No Good News in the Dead of Night by jgaskisanerd. It was one of the first fanfics I read, and it made me :( but in a...good way. Anyway, I read her story (which you should too) and bam *headcanon accepted*
> 
> I don't know if she has an AO3, but until I find out, here's the link to her tumblr: 
> 
> http://jgaskisanerd.tumblr.com/post/39581351186/title-no-good-news-in-the-dead-of-night-author


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Woah Bifur, it’s ok. Nori’s not here to steal the silverware for once. Shoosh.
> 
> Nori sucks at good-byes. But he tries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *edit* Er, sorry, I'm kind of reposting this chapter because (and this took me a loooong time to notice apparently. go me :P) I realized part of it was missing?? And thus didn't make sense. Augh. Ok, here's the corrected chapter. sorry sorry

It was a much more somber pair that entered the home of the Family ‘Ur than had started out the night. Bofur held a finger to his lips as he pushed open the door.

“Right, looks like Bif has gone to bed. C’min, I’ll set you up in ‘ere,” Bofur led the way to the common room.

Pulling some blankets from a low chest, Bofur turned back to his companion. “Will this be enough? I’m sure I- Bifur, no, wait!”

Nori whirled around when he saw Bofur’s eyes widen and looked into the fearsome countenance looming out of the darkness of the entryway. His hands came up just in time to catch the mallet being swung at his head.

Bofur rushed to his side. “Bifur, wait! This is me mate, Nori! Nori, from the mines? I was tellin’ you his story about the rat in the Oliphant paddock the other day, remember? They had a time cleaning _that_ mess up, ye can be sure!”

Bifur calmed as he listened to Bofur’s steady voice. Though still glaring at Nori, he lowered the mallet.

Rubbing his hands, Nori took a step back from the cousins, unsure what to do as Bofur kept talking, explaining his presence.

“So. That’s settled,” Bofur turned back to Nori after Bifur grunted his assent, smiling as though nothing had happened. “Nori, this is me cousin Bifur.”

“At-at your service,” Nori got out. Coughing, he pulled himself together. “So, Bofur says you’re a toymaker then?” he said in an easy-going tone. He was trying very hard not to stare at the axe-blade in the other dwarf’s forehead.

Bifur made a non-committal noise and shrugged, muttering something in Khuzdul.

Nori caught a few words, but wasn’t entirely sure. “’m sorry, mate, me grasp of the Old Tongue ain’t what it should be. Me lit’le brother’s the scholar of the family, y’see.”

“He says he _used_ to be a toymaker,” Bofur says sadly. “He lost his tools and shop in the raid, though, an’ we…well, it’s tough makin’ honest coin, er, no offense…” he trailed off as he recalled his friend’s chosen occupation. “It’s just, Bom’s got his little un’s, and even a decent knife costs a meal and some…” Bofur could feel his fury mounting at his sense of hopelessness, and tried to lighten the mood. Taking off his signature hat, Bofur plopped it on his cousin’s head. “But that’s alright, because sometimes I let him borrow me topper, an’ no one can feel bad lookin’ as ‘andsome as I do in it!”

Puffing out his breath indulgently, Bifur returned the furry head-warmer to its rightful place, and chuckling, gave a small wave of the mallet as he headed back to his room.

“Oof. Well, that’s it for me too. Ugh, all that ale is going to feel like a mistake tomorrow when we’re crackin’ rocks, innit? Haha, right. G’night!” Clapping Nori on the shoulder and smiling sleepily, Bofur stumbled off in the direction Bifur had gone.

“G’night.” Nori looked after his friend, brow slightly furrowed. “Hey, Bofur?” he suddenly called. Bofur half turned.

“Yer a good mate,” Nori said, “Thanks for everything.”

Still smiling, but slightly confused, Bofur nodded blearily and continued on.

Lying on the blankets, hands behind his head, Nori listened to Bifur and Bofur exchange ‘good nights’ in Khuzdul. He found himself thinking of Dori. When he was a wee dwarrow, Dori would tell him stories and sing him to sleep in the Old Tongue. He always found the language comforting, and regretted not learning more. Maybe when he returned, Ori could help him pick it back up. With that, he realized what he was going to do.

-

The next morning, Bofur trotted out of his room, pulling on his boots as he went. He _knew_ that last pint of ale was a bad idea. As well as the one before that. And the one before that…

“Nori! Mate, you up? Foreman’s going te have our hides this…time,” Bofur stopped short as he looked at the empty common room; blankets neatly folded on the chest. There was something nestled on top of them. Coming closer, Bofur found a mismatched set of three sturdy knives of different sizes. Smiling wryly, he set them to the side for Bifur and stowed away the blankets.

Reaching the mines alone, he had a sudden thought and veered to check the equipment room. Sure enough, the big bongy-knocker-whateveritwas was gone. Though he knew the moment he saw the knives that his friend had left, Bofur still felt heavy-hearted at the confirmation the missing mace provided. Nodding in the direction of the road, Bofur hefted his mattock and prepared to enter the shafts.

“Safe travels, my friend. May we meet again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the technical end, I suppose, but a more light-hearted epilogue is forth-coming. Thank you as always for viewing *bow*


	5. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, about those feathers for Ori…

A ways down the road, a lone dwarf could be found whistling and twirling a whacking great stick as he leisurely made his way down the path. Nori was enjoying taking in the scenery, as this time it was not rushing by at the speed of a racing pony. This was much more like it.

He had found his pack right where he remembered stashing it, in that crevice in the hill. Never go into a strange town with all your stuff on your back. Anything could happen. Why, it could even get stolen. Even though it had been a couple months, the contents were still safe and dry, including the pouch of Southfarthing Leaf. Nori had known the moment he pinched the pack that it would be a quality traveling companion.

Edging his way around a small dropoff, Nori heard skittering, and looked up. A weasel was making its way up the cliff-face. Tilting his head back, Nori spied what the weasel’s goal was: a large nest was wedged at the top of the rocks. Were those eggs? Oh ho. It’d been a while since Nori had had some decent eggs. Right, weasel, here we go.

Looping his pack’s straps around the bongy-knocker, and wedging the whole thing into a crack for safekeeping, Nori started up the cliff. He was a deft climber and soon made it to the nest. Reaching the top, he grinned back down at his furry competitor.

“No ‘ard feelin’s, eh, lit’le matey? Look, I’ll save ye one, ‘ow’s that? Oy, where r’ ya…?”

As he watched the weasel turn tail and slide down the cliff, traveling in a much more hurried way than before, a shadow passed over Nori.

He spun around and looked up…and up at the furious, well, it must be a bird of some sort, mustn’t it? Great flapping wings and clacking beak like that; though much larger, and angrier than any bird Nori had ever encountered before… hissing at him over her nest of incredibly large and delicious-looking eggs. Right. Nori was always up for a challenge and smirked as he reached to his belt for the…oh, that’s right. He left that one at Bofur’s. No matter! There was always the one behind his back…no. No, that one was gone too… Perhaps the one in his boot…?

Patting himself rather frantically now, Nori finally dug into the greaves around his forearms and pulled out the small, slim blade he normally used to pick locks.

“Ah. Bollocks.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sure an important lesson was learned that day XD From then on, Nori always keeps like, 6 or 7 knives on him at all times. Not in his pack, not nearby, ON HIS PERSON. 6 or 7 as a MINIMUM. The guy likes blades, what can I say?


End file.
